


Dress You Up (In My Love)

by bluecurls



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, POV Steve Rogers, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 07:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4952350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecurls/pseuds/bluecurls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy thinks Steve needs some new threads. He has trouble telling her no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dress You Up (In My Love)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Madonna's Like a Virgin album.
> 
> Marvel owns everything. Anything you recognize does not belong to me.

The music was beyond loud, so much so that Steve could feel the vibrations of the bass on the floor. It rattled his bones, which are clenched nearly as tight as his jaw as he stood stiffer than the mannequin to his right. “Are we shopping or clubbing?” he questioned, secretly pleased to throw in a word that made Darcy blink in surprise.

“Not your scene, Cap?” she smirked, shoving an armful of clothes into his arms. “Here; make those muscles useful.”

Apparently satisfied he would do as she requested – OK, demanded, but Darcy was his friend even if she was a bit bossy – Darcy wove her way through the dimly lit store to peruse a wall of jeans. Was there really a need for more than one kind? Relaxed. Cargo. Skinny. Slim, which Darcy informed him was _not_ the same as skinny. Straight leg. (Did that imply that crooked leg jeans were a thing?) Dark wash versus light wash versus some with more hold than denim. Wait, were those red jeans?  

Steve shook his head as the excessiveness of it all.

“Can I help you?” the blond salesgirl – Callie, according to her nametag -- directed her question at Darcy, but her eyes were on Steve. He shuffled uncomfortably, still not used to the interested looks he received from pretty dames – er, girls. Ladies. Women.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Darcy answered for them both, paying more attention to her phone than Callie or Steve. A second later, she was on her tiptoes, trying to reach a pair of jeans on the top shelf of the floor-to-ceiling display. Steve gently nudged her aside, shifting the clothes he carried to one arm so he could snag the pair Darcy barely slapped with the palm of her hand. Following her instructions, he grabbed two more before she looked satisfied. “Actually … Callie?” The blond was by Darcy’s side in seconds. “Can you take Steve to the dressing rooms? I’m going to do a second sweep.”

Callie smiled. “Happy to,” she practically purred. Steve glared at the petite brunette. She stuck out her tongue and made shooing motions with her hands before she was swallowed up in the crowd of bodies. Why were there so many people shopping on a Thursday afternoon? Didn’t they have jobs?

“So, are you shopping for anything particular today?” Callie asked as they weaved their way to the back of the store.

“Um … not really,” Steve said. “My friends think I need to update my look.”

Callie took in Steve’s current attire – khaki pants, a white T-shirt and his leather bomber jacket. Dark boots completed the look. “Mmm … it’s more preppy than what most guys your age wear these days, but it works for you.”

Steve nearly snorted at the guys his age line. He may look like he was in his late 20s, but according to his birth certificate, he was well into his 90s. “Yeah, well, jeans and such weren’t as common where I’m from,” he said, grateful the music was not piped into the long hallways of doors Callie led him to. Doing a quick count of the items in his arms, she scribbled a number on the small mirror outside the dressing room door with the Sharpie she had tucked in the neck of her T-shirt.

“Here you go,” she announced cheerfully. “Anything that doesn’t work, just leave it with Jack,” she said, pointing to the impossibly thin man perched on a stool behind a tall counter, a bored look on his pale face.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered automatically as he pushed open the door. With any luck, he’d find something that “worked” before Darcy was finished browsing and they could go back to the tower. He didn’t know how he let Darcy talk him into this. Oh wait, she asked while batting those big blue eyes at him in a gesture that conveyed innocence even though he knew better.

_“Please?” she leaned over the breakfast bar to give him her best puppy eyes. “It’s not like I don’t know how to dress men.”_

_Steve choked on his coffee, coughing as Clint leaned over to thump him solidly on his back. “Excuse me?”_

_“Thor,” she answered cheerfully. “The cape may work when he’s in full battle mode, but I was the one who got him to embrace Sunday casual, not to mention formal wear for when Jane needs to do the science meet-and-greet thing.”_

_“Did I hear my name?” Thor boomed as he entered the communal kitchen, dressed in sweatpants and a green T-shirt. “Ah, Steven, just the man I was looking for. Would you care to spar?”_

_“No!” Darcy slapped her hand against the counter for emphasis, though Steve noticed the slight wince on her face when her hand met cold marble. He ignored the urge to cradle her small hand in his as steadfastly as he ignored Clint’s smug grin. “He’s going shopping. Cap’s been thawed for a couple of years now. It’s time he dressed like it.”_

_“Darcy …” Steve loved that she was so comfortable around him, unlike so many others who treated his time in ice as something that should be ignored lest it caused him to freak out (Darcy’s words) or break down (SHIELD’s). Still, a little tact wasn’t a bad thing._

_“That is marvelous,” Thor beamed, pulling Darcy into a side hug that had the smaller woman wincing in exasperated affection. It didn’t matter how many times she reminded him that she was a squishy human. In Thor’s eyes, she was a great warrior who once wielded lightening to best him and he treated her as such. “Lady Darcy has helped me navigate Migardian fashions. You are in good hands.”_

_“See?” Darcy preened, rising to her toes to plant a smacking kiss on Thor’s cheek (he still had to bend down considerably for her to reach him). “Twenty minutes, Rogers.”_

_“What?” he blinked. “Now?”_

_“Now, soldier,” she confirmed. “The bad guys are apparently taking the day off and we should take advantage of it. Let me throw some food at the genius three real quick and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”_

_Clint was still laughing when he dragged himself to the elevator._

“Steve?” Darcy’s voice echoed in the dressing room area. “Stop hiding, Rogers!”

“Darcy!” he hissed, poking his head out of the flimsy door. “What are you doing here?”

She stopped and looked behind her. Jack didn’t bother looking up from his phone. “Um, shopping?”

“I meant the dressing rooms!”

She laughed and made her way to the door next to his, rolling her eyes at the voice that called “Occupied!” when she jiggled the handle. She moved to the next door. It, too, was in use. “It’s a co-ed space, Rogers.”

“What?”

Darcy sighed in frustration before she turned to barrel into his space, ducking under his arm before he could protest.

“Darcy!”

“What? All of the other rooms are full and I’m not buying anything before I try it on,” she told him, hanging her purse on the same hook as Steve’s jacket. "I've been burned too many times, my friend."

“But …” he tried to find the words to tell her it was wrong, but then she shrugged out of her bulky cardigan to reveal a satin camisole and the words died in his throat. She was gorgeous, her body made of curves he hadn’t seen since before his “death.” With her dark hair and penchant for red lipstick, she was a woman straight out of the pin-ups he and Bucky used to covet.

“But what?” she asked, toeing out of her battered Converse. “I can behave. Can you?”

He didn’t trust himself to answer, turning his back to finish buttoning the jeans he had pulled on seconds before Darcy’s arrival. He turned to look in the mirror. They were jeans. They looked fine.

“Nope,” Darcy announced, popping the P.

Steve turned around. “What’s wrong with ‘em?”

She rolled her eyes, putting her hands on his waist and turning him back to the mirror. “Too loose in the leg,” she brushed her hand against one denim-covered thigh. He sucked in a sharp breath at the light contact. “You have too much muscle for skinny jeans, but these don’t accentuate the positives. It’s a crime.” She turned away to rustle through the clothes he’d piled neatly on the bench. “Try these.” She held out a pair that looked exactly like what he had on, but he knew better than to say that.

Turning his back to Darcy, he took off the first pair of jeans, tossing them over the door to their dressing room. He’d just pulled on the second pair when Darcy grunted. “Are you …” What he was about to say was forgotten as he took in the image of Darcy in a red dress. The fabric that hugged her curves left little to the imagination despite how much skin was actually covered.

“Damn thing’s stuck,” she muttered. She turned her back to him, one hand lifting her hair off of her neck. “Can you get it?”

Steve ignored the trembling of his hands as he reached for the zipper to do as she asked. He gently worked it, lowering it a couple of inches to dislodge the stuck thread before slowly bringing it up, unable to resist tracing his thumb over her soft skin as he did so.

“Well,” she turned around and struck a pose. “What do you think?”

He let his eyes drop to her bare feet – her toes were painted bright green – before he dragged them up her body. The dress dipped in a low V at her front, showing just enough skin to make a person long for more. She looked incredible, no doubt too good for whoever was going to see her in it, but he didn’t think he should say that. “Nice,” he said.

Darcy made a face and turned to the mirror. “Not too tight?” She jumped around a bit. Steve held his breath, both grateful and annoyed when her breasts stayed where they should.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked as he pulled a long-sleeved dark blue button-up from the pile of clothes Darcy chose for him, shrugging it on over his T-shirt.

“Hmm? Oh, Pepper’s dragging me to some Stark Industries cocktail gathering next week; dressy casual, whatever that means.” She turned to peer at the back of the dress in the mirror. “Is nice really all you have for me, Rogers?”

He finished buttoning his shirt and tucked it into his jeans. “You know you’re gorgeous, Darce; don’t need me telling you that.” She caught his eyes in the mirror and smiled. “Now me,” he took a step back and held out his arms. “Does this pass?”

She mimicked his actions from moments before, letting her eyes drift over him slowly. She held up a finger and twirled it, making him blush as he turned a quick circle. “Much better,” she reached around him to snag the price tag dangling from his hip, noting the size and make. “I’ll grab a few more pairs in other shades and you should be good to go.”

“A few more pairs?” Steve asked. “How many jeans does a guy need?”

Darcy shook her head as she brought her hand up behind her back to drag the zipper of the dress down. “Steve, Steve, Steve,” she said, wiggling in a way he had no right to enjoy. “You never ask stupid questions like that, especially when Tony’s paying.”

He paused in the act of taking off his shirt. “What’s that?”

“Yep,” Darcy stepped out of the dress. “This is a work purchase. I work for Stark Industries, AKA Tony Stark, therefore his credit card will pay for it.”

“I don’t work for Tony.”

“Details,” she said dismissively as she slid the dress back on to its hanger. Steve still had his back to her, but all that meant was he could see her in the mirror. If she didn’t get dressed soon, his face was going to match her pink bra and underwear. “I’ll probably get a raise for getting you to update your wardrobe.” She pulled on her camisole before she shimmied into her jeans. Once the denim was over her hips, Steve felt it was safe to turn around. “All right, soldier; hand over the pants.”

“What?”

“The jeans, Cap. Unless you were planning to wear ‘em home.”

He looked down. He forgot he was wearing them. “Oh yeah,” he said, his fingers going to the snap. “Um …”

Darcy sighed and turned around, mumbling something he couldn’t make out. Steve quickly took off the jeans and slid on his khakis. “All clear,” he told her as he tucked in his shirt.

“Now,” Darcy grinned at him as they walked along the street a few minutes later, Steve carrying both of their bags in one hand, the large pretzel Darcy bought him “for being a good boy” in the other. “Was that so bad?”

Steve took a large bite as he considered his question. He could have made do without the noise and dim lighting and excessive use of cologne that permeated the store, but overall it was a painless expedition. “Thanks for your help,” he told Darcy.

“Don’t thank me now, thank me after your date,” she bit into her own pretzel.

Steve stopped walking. “Date? What date?”

“Your date.”

“I have a date?”

“Duh,” she rolled her eyes. “You were talking about setting something up with her earlier.”

Steve closed his eyes in embarrassment. He wondered what, if anything, Darcy had heard when she walked into the kitchen. Yeah, the waitress from the café he and Clint stopped at for coffee that morning had slipped him her phone number, but when Steve told Clint he wasn’t going to call her, the archer had groaned.

_“Is this about Lewis again? Dude, fucking grow a pair already and ask her out!”_

_“It’s not like that,” Steve protested. “We’re friends.”_

_“Yeah, well if I ever catch you looking at me the way you do her, **friend** …” his voice trailed off as he pictured the scenario. “Actually, I take that back. I’d be flattered.”_

_Steve shook his head. “I don’t event know what to do on a date. It’s not something I had a lot of experience with before I went into the ice.”_

_Clint finished the rest of his coffee. “Not a lot has changed there, Cap. There’s a reason dinner and a movie is a classic.”_

_Darcy walked in before Steve could reply._

“While Barton is the last person I’d take dating advice from, I’ve got to agree with him in this case. You can’t go wrong with dinner and a movie for a first date.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked.

“Yep,” she stuffed the rest of the pretzel in her mouth and slurped the remains of her soda, forgetting her promise to share it with him. She tossed the cup and her napkin in the trash can and kept walking. Steve followed a few steps behind.

They were a block away from the tower when he made up his mind. “Hey, Darce?” he asked, one hand going to her shoulder to turn her around.

“What’s up?”

“I was wondering …” he took a deep breath. Jumping out of a plane without a parachute was less nerve-racking than this. “Um … what are you doing tomorrow night?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Nothing that jumps out; why? Are you a shopping addict? Do you want to hit the real high end stores now? I gotta tell you, seeing you in Armani is number eight on my Top 10 List of Things That Must Happen.”

“Armani?”

“Suits – real suits, Cap; not superhero suits – make the man.”

Steve had a sudden urge to make that happen, especially if the dreamy look on Darcy’s face was anything to go by. “I was thinking more dinner and a movie.”

“Sure,” she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “More team bonding? I know Bruce is pushing for the Star Wars trilogy.”

“No.” He took the phone out of her hand and slid it into his jacket. “Darcy, I want to go on a date with you.” Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. It wasn’t the reaction he was looking for, but she wasn’t laughing, so … “Will you go on a date with me?”

“What about the girl you were talking about in the kitchen?”

“You were the girl we were talking about in the kitchen.”

She smiled slowly, her entire face lighting up with it. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, feeling very much like the scrawny guy he used to be. Would this ever get easier? “I like you, Darcy; have for a while now, but I didn’t want to say anything in case things got weird.”

“You had to fight mechanical alligators last week,” Darcy reminded him. “I think our lives are already weird.”

He absently stroked his arm where he bore the teeth marks from one of the robots for nearly a day. “Fair enough.”

Darcy bit her lip as she studied Steve. “So … a date with Captain America, huh?”

“No,” he shook his head. “A date with Steve Rogers.”

She brought a hand up to his neck and pulled down at the same time she stood on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Even better.”

Steve leaned back slightly to smile at her. “In my day, the kiss happened at the end of the date.”

She grinned and kissed him again. “Are you complaining?”

“No, ma’am.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a quick scene that popped in my head during a recent shopping trip and would not let go. Cheesy and sweet. Sometimes we need that in our lives.


End file.
